


A Song of Night and Winter

by Reijin_Hakumei



Series: Polaris [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Bleach, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Also Elvi is this enough angst for you?, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Angst and Tragedy, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, For Elvi because you're loved, For Hekwos because you're my muse, Game of Thrones References, Game of Thrones Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-A Game of Thrones, Romantic Angst, Seriously Sad, This is a Song of Ice and Fire so let's face it everyone dies, Tragic Romance, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reijin_Hakumei/pseuds/Reijin_Hakumei
Summary: A song of the King that brought night down upon the world and his polar star.Excerpt:He returned to his mind, murmuring, “The northern army comes for us.  We have perhaps the night, but they will advance with the dawn.”“You do not have the men to hold Sea Dragon Point,” his companion stated, always the realist, “Not from the concentrated efforts of the Kings of Winter. And I am not the help I once was..."...Soon their kind would be hunted into nothing, only myths and fables to carry their legacy onward.So was to be all their fate, it seemed.
Relationships: Hitsugaya Toushirou/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: Polaris [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901326
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21
Collections: IchiHitsu Ship Week and Archive, The Seireitei Server August Writing Challenge 2020





	A Song of Night and Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShiroStrawberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiroStrawberry/gifts), [Hekwos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekwos/gifts).



__

_Some say the world will end in fire…_

_… Some say in ice._

_From what I’ve tasted of desire,_

_I hold with those who favor fire._

_But if it had to perish twice,_

_…I think I know enough of hate..._

_To say that for destruction ice,_

_Is also great,_

_And would suffice._

* * *

**_Prelude_ **

Sea Dragon Point was beautiful, in the way that only nature can be. A forested peninsula of pines, jutting out into the Bay of Ice, an embrace of land by the sea. The pines were of choice wood for ship-building, and a hundred hidden coves dotted the shore to keep such vessels safe from the weather’s harsher temperaments. In the bay, colonies of seals would bask upon the rocks in the sun. Rivers that flowed into the sea carried salmon, flowing from lakes with otters that hunted clams along the shore.

The highest hills, far above sloping bogs, contained weirwood circles, their bark as white as bone, crimson five-pointed leaves clinging to the branches, and sap the color of blood weeping from the faces cut by the children of the forest. It was here, knelt within the circled trees in reverence, that Ichigo, the Warg King could be found. His allies, the children of the forest, and their leaders, the greenseers, had been wary as of late. Toshiro, his most trusted ally, his lover, his partner, his friend, stood to his back, teal eyes watching over his body as his mind dwell elsewhere.

His mind ran through the forest, paws swift and silent upon the hard ground. Amber eyes darted as he traveled, searching for any sign that his allies’ fears were valid. And then he broke the crest of a hill, looking out over flatter land, and he _saw._

He returned to his mind, murmuring, “The northern army comes for us. We have perhaps the night, but they will advance with the dawn.”

“You do not have the men to hold Sea Dragon Point,” his companion stated, always the realist, “Not from the concentrated efforts of the Kings of Winter. And I am not the help I once was, what with Nagga and Hyrouinmaru slain by the Grey King.”

Ichigo felt a sympathetic pang of loss for him at the mention of the great sea dragons. Once the proud and fierce protectors of their home, Nagga’s enormous body now lies beached and rotting upon their southwestern shore. Her son’s body, Hyourinmaru, Toshiro’s faithful familiar, lost to the waves of the icy sea. Those _savages_ knew not with which they meddled. Soon their kind would be hunted into nothing, only myths and fables to carry their legacy onward. 

So was to be all their fate, it seemed.

He shifted, his long orange-ginger hair catching like fire in the last rays of sunset, his head turning to take in the feathered, winter white hair and piercing teal eyes of his partner, carefully watching the other as he broached the subject that had been dancing between them.

“I have heard rumor of a ritual.”

“Black magic,” Toshiro spat, “An evil thing. Failures, each and every attempt, and for the best. It will be our ruin.”

Toshiro saw more than most of the children, the last born with the greenseer curse. His bright teal eyes glowed green with the paths of the future, some sure, some merely possible, some only the remotest of chance. 

“Why would the greenseers encourage the experimentation if such acts will bring our ruin? Do you see more than your predecessors?”

“Not more,” Toshiro conceded, “however, the danger unleashed should they be successful… If we are not able to _control_ it…”

“Do you think that outcome likely?”

A short silence. Then, “I cannot say, it is only a feeling. Many events must fall perfectly, the cascade must flow in a precise way. But I have seen the end of such a path, I do not agree that it is a future we should risk.”

Ichigo stood, his amber eyes taking in the small form of his companion. As a child of the forest, Toshiro remained ever youthful, though he knew the other far exceeded himself in years, by centuries even. They did not know, children of the forest did not celebrate nor count the years since their birth. He gently pulled him into his arms, his small body a familiar comfort against his own. His relationship with the youngest of the greenseers, their union, had bound the alliance between both of their peoples. 

Ichigo was of the First Men, yes, but as a warg, a skinchanger that could command the minds of beasts, he felt more kinship with the children of the forest. His men felt the same. They had carved out a home here upon Sea Dragon Point, the last haven south of the Bay of Ice. The home of the few remaining greenseers, his Toshiro among them. A home that was now threatened by those that would rid the world of magic. Many of the other forest folk had already retreated north. Heretics, the ignorant of the First Men called them, as if their new gods could hope to rival the old.

He turned up that beautiful face, kissed him deeply. How _dare_ they, to threaten what was his? Everything they had built? They would slaughter his wargs, and his Toshiro, if the greenseer was lucky. If they learned of what he was… Ichigo refused to allow such terror to pass. He would protect them all.

No matter the cost. 

Toshiro was clinging to him now, his teal eyes glowing green, no longer participating in the kiss as Ichigo’s choice altered the stream of the future, pulling it to flow along a different path.

“No,” Toshiro murmured against his lips, “No, you can’t.”

“They have failed because the First Men they use are too weak to survive the ritual.”

“Please, not this, not you -”

“This is not something I could ask of my men.”

“I can’t lose you, you would not be _you_ anymore, even if you live.”

“What is the difference, my love? The me that stands before you will not live to see another night either way. It may be desperation that has guided their actions so far, that guides mine now, but surely you understand? If there is even the remotests of chance that you, our people, our home survives, I must try.”

He withdrew, amber eyes pouring into teal all the love, all the desire, all the reverence he held for the being in his arms. Toshiro would not cry, he knew, but his despair was perfectly clear regardless.

“Would you honor me, once more love?”

The despair lingered, but those teal eyes softened and the kiss that followed was desperate and filled with longing and love. “I will make you remember,” Toshiro murmured against his lips as the four digits of his smaller hands worked to untie the furs and leathers that wrapped his body against the cold. Toshiro’s clothing was simple and easily shrugged aside in comparison, the chill of winter nothing against his pale skin, at home and a part of nature, of winter itself.

Their bodies entwined, their union watched over by the eyes of the old gods amongst the weirwood trees, and Ichigo believed his small, passionate lover. How could he ever forget this? Forget him? It simply wasn’t possible, he decided. No matter what became of his mind, Toshiro would forever remain the center of his heart. 

It was in the dead of night, the moon new and absent from the clear dark skies, that the pair stood before Leaf, a shard of dragonglass in her small hand. Toshiro bound his body securely to a young weirwood, yet to receive a face. He then brushed the long strands of his hair away from his face and kissed him, a kiss that Ichigo savored, feeling his love, his loyalty, his acceptance of his choice. 

He truly didn’t deserve the other, did not want to put him through this, but he could not let him die. Not him. Ichigo's time upon this world would have always been fleeting, while his Toshiro had millennia still ahead of him. Their time together would never have been enough, the differences in their lifespans simply too great. Impossible though, for the mind to convince the heart of folly, once love had taken hold. 

“There is no guarantee,” Leaf stated, her stance tense and deferential to the two lords before her.

“There is hope,” Ichigo said, gracing her with a smile, trying to put the other child of the forest at ease, “that is all we can ask for.” Ichigo’s remaining focus was for Toshiro alone. “I love you,” he whispered.

Toshiro still did not cry, but his voice was soft in order to keep in from breaking as he responded, “I love you.”

Then Leaf plunged the black obsidian into his heart and he knew no more.

* * *

_Just go towards north and always north._

_Our hands were supposed to be entwined together..._

_...But now they’re getting loose..._

_You were always confused while on your way, no wonder you couldn’t find your way home._

_All you could do was scream and hope for somebody’s help..._

_Reaching nobody._

_“I’m all alone…”_

_I won’t let you say such sad things like that anymore._

* * *

**_The Long Night_ **

It was the eyes first. Eyes… the windows to the soul… Amber became blue fire as ice spread from the heart where the dragonglass was now embedded. The beautifully tanned skin turned an ashen white, the warmth stolen as the cold of death flooded into its place. The long, orange hair froze ridged, bleached white, then shattered, leaving shortened white spikes coated with ice.

He was screaming, a sound Toshiro had never heard before. He refused to look away, refused not to witness every part of this. He would endure this sight, observe every change, memorize each difference. He would remember him how he was and accept whatever he became. His sacrifice deserved at least that much. Toshiro knew that he had done this, for them _all,_ yes, but mainly for _him._

As the ice took over his throat, his voice _changed,_ became something painful to hear, not only to listen to. It became higher in pitch and warbled, distorted, cracking, with a quality similar to a screech. It was difficult to not flinch, to accept even the loss of the voice he so adored. Would nothing of his Ichigo remain?

The screaming shifted into a mad, hysterical laughter, the distorted screech remaining as it pierced through the night. Crows erupted from the trees around them, and off in the distance direwolves howled as if answering a call.

Burning blue eyes locked onto teal as the ice spread to the bindings that secured him to the young weirwood, shattering with the simple flex of strong arms. Those arms had held him in comfort for so many years, and Toshiro refrained from withdrawing as they encircled him once again, fought to relax into the disturbing yet familiar embrace. It would have helped if he wasn’t still _laughing_ that terrible, terrible laugh.

“Sweetness,” he half cooed, half giggled, all of it entirely mad, “Our sweet, sweet Toshiro. King knew ya wouldn’t reject us, would love us still.”

His embrace was frigid but the cold bothered Toshiro not. It was the manner in which the other spoke - he had never sounded like that before. “Ichigo?” Toshiro questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

That awful laughter again, and then, “Yes sweetness, and no. He is here, but he is in pain, creating me has taken an awful toll on his mind. Surprisingly, he has held on. I think yer the reason. Our little Polaris, you’ll be our guide, yes? For the night is dark and full of terrors…” He broke off, cracked laughter, quickly smothered, “We would become the night, lost, stumbling, lethal, all-consuming… if not for you, little light. The Night King bows to no man, but… for a while… we will deign to follow a star…”

Toshiro shifted to look into those burning blue eyes lit by some internal fire… no not fire… _magic._ A magic blacker than the darkest of nights. He tried to look past such defilement, to see the man he loved, the bright soul beyond. Whatever this madness was, it claimed his Ichigo was still within him, and with just the barest flicker of amber, Toshiro found his love was not utterly lost. He held onto that flash of amber and softly pressed his lips to the other. It was like kissing ice, though as he allowed it to deepen, the other thawed against his lips, the color returning to his face.

“Toshiro,” he whispered against his lips, “I’m here, I promise, my heart is yours, could never forget you. He’ll listen to you, he swore he would.”

“I understand,” Toshiro murmured back, “I could never reject you, no matter what you became. I love you.”

“Love you.”

His Ichigo pulled away and the demon reclaimed his body, blue eyes and madness returning. “King really should be restin’, sweetness.”

Toshiro stared down those insane eyes, his own set and determined, “I accept. I will be your star, I will guide you so that you do not lose yourself to the darkness.”

The other smiled cryptically, “It’s only a matter of time, little light. The long night gathers, stretched so that men will be born and die, never knowing the dawn. We will slaughter, we will violate the dead, their corpses puppets to our magic, their will shredded and subjected to our own. Can ya really last? Remain through all that?”

“As I said.”

The terrible, cracked and screeching laughter bubbled over as the demon controlling his love rasped out, “Then lead on Polaris, guide our hand. For whom does death call upon this night?”

Toshiro pointed toward the East, “The Kings of Winter, their force awaits the dawn to lay siege to our home.”

The demon grinned, razor sharp, “Unfortunate then, they wait in vain…”

The blue magic burned brighter, illuminating the mad expression on his face. Leaf had been silent until now, just out of sight within the trees. She cried out, startled, as the previous failures, buried beneath the ground, dug their way to the surface, the blue magic taking hold of their bodies and will and shining out their eyes.

Teal eyes snapped to her and Toshiro commanded, “Gather all the children of the forest, all the wargs. Retreat to the castle and barricade for siege.”

Leaf nodded and raced off into the forest. He appreciated that most about the wood dancers, the warriors of his people, skilled in woodland and illusionary magic - they never questioned an order. It suited him well… as long as he was the one giving the orders.

Their dead army was small, not even twenty strong, but the demon did not seem concerned as they marched for the East. They were also slow, traveling only slightly faster than a walk, though Toshiro imagined that their relentlessness made up for the lack of speed. 

When they broke the treeline, a handful of hours later, they seemed utterly unaffected by the miles covered. With only an hour left of night, not all of the camp still slept. The Night King smiled at the sight and commanded the small army onward. What occurred next was as horrifying as it was satisfyingly efficient. 

As the risen wights killed the sleeping soldiers in their beds, their deaths swift and silent, the Night King raised the newly dead, growing his army. Like a wave, growing ever vast as it approaches the shore, the dead came for the living, heralded by ice and the glow of blue eyes.

The north men caught on, but far too late to turn the tide. Their armaments were ill-suited for felling what was already dead and their terror made them stupid in combat. The demon smiled lazily as he halted the raising of the newly dead. Toshiro looked at him in question and the other shrugged, “They’ll just run if they don’t think it’s at least possible to win.”

“But it isn't.”

“No,” he grinned, “No little star, it isn’t.”

Screams ushered in the dawn until all that remained were the wights, standing dormant, awaiting further command, unable to act upon their own will. Toshiro alone the only being left that could fully be considered alive.

Throughout it all, Toshiro had remained by the side of the Night King, bearing witness and standing with him, as he said he would. He refused to abandon him to this darkness. It was only a difficult thing to witness because of the sheer amount of evil he could feel from that magic, from the demon that possessed his love; he felt no sympathy for the First Men that had come to take their home and lives. He only felt for his Ichigo, forced to become this twisted creature beside him, the price of their - _his_ \- safety.

“Well sweetness,” the Night King whispered, “where to now?”

“Home,” Toshiro stated authoritatively, “We should return to the castle.” He stared down the other, those burning blue eyes playful and sadistic, “Can you behave? Will you harm our people?”

The smile the other offered was far more a terror than a comfort as he said silkily, “I protect King, little star. That protection will extend to those he cares for, so long as I deem them not a threat to us,” he ended with a hiss.

Toshiro nodded, taking the other very seriously. His grip on this monster was tenuous at best. Their people would be wary, and the wargs would not understand. He hoped, though, that they would honor their King’s decision, that they would not attack on sight. He feared what it would do to his Ichigo’s heart, to watch within while this demon slaughtered his own men.

It was a question he would never know the answer to. Hours later, they reached the castle to find it burning, the inferno rivaled only by the sun. The Night King snarled beside him, “Diversion, their main force came by sea.”

“They were prepared for siege…” Toshiro whispered, not quite believing what his eyes were telling him. His Ichigo, turned into this terrible creature, for _this?_

“My lords,” a voice addressed them from above. 

Teal eyes flickered up to see the commander of the wood dancers balanced within the branches of a pine, his golden hair tangled and bloody but his green eyes bright with war. “Yukio, report.”

“We were infiltrated, a warg loyal to the Kings of Winter. A _Stark,”_ he spat.

Toshiro glanced quickly at the Night King but, disturbingly, he saw no reaction to the news. Though that was decidedly better than the rage it could have been.

“What were our losses? What of the Kings of Winter?”

“They sacked the castle quickly, killed everyone they could find. It wasn’t a battle, it was a purge. Myself and a few other wood dancers managed to escape through illusion magic. But… the other children of the forest, the greenseers, the loyal wargs… None survived. It was their numbers, they were overwhelmed. The First Men did not linger, a raven was received and they retreated, sailing back to the East. Their last ship departed about two hours ago.”

“Perhaps they were not stupid enough to wait for death,” the demon whispered.

“The raven?” Toshiro murmured, “You believe it was sent from the camp this morning.”

“Yes,” the demon hissed, “I gave them too long to live, it seems. In the future I will not be so sporting.” Those halting blue eyes turned to him and, keeping his word, he asked, “What now, little star?”

“North, Night King, we sail north. These southern lands hold only death for us now. We will return to the forests of my people. Will you guard them from the reach of the First Men?”

The Night King smiled, razor sharp, “I would kill the First Men for the enjoyment alone. King’s love is for _you_ Polaris, our north star. It is _you_ we will protect. _You_ we will follow. So long as yer kin play nice, we will not seek to harm them, as King does not wish ya despair. Though I wonder… with the loss of yer greenseers, will they yet see the benefits of tolerating our existence? Death is abhorrent to life, little light. Yer love for King may blind ya, may tie ya to our side, but what of yer kin? How long before I must protect King from those ya wish us to protect?”

Toshiro didn’t want to believe the demon. Wanted to believe in his own people. They were the entire reason he had become this creature. Surely they would not be as foolish as the other suggested… 

His gaze lingered on the burning castle. 

He couldn’t help but feel like it was a sign of things to come.

* * *

_Days when your heart was wavering, seepage of last night’s rain flowing down over the top of your scars…_

_As if it’d erase your past…_

_These ropes that were supposed to be fastened instead now become loose..._

_It seems, from the very beginning, this boat was unable to stay in place._

* * *

**_War for the Dawn_ **

Two thousand years. That was how long it took for the children of the forest to grow too unsettled, too disgusted, too fearful to suffer the Night King’s existence. 

Cowards.

_Betrayers._

His Ichigo was the entire reason they were able to fight the First Men to a standstill. Could have crushed them completely had Toshiro not stayed his hand. The entire reason for their precious Pact, the peaceful coexistence they had enjoyed for the past two thousand years.

During that time the long night had come to an end and they enjoyed long summers, mild winters. They now trusted the humans, something Toshiro knew he would never do, not completely. He simply _saw_ too much. His greensight overtook him more and more, the last of the children of the forest with the curse. It was difficult to close his eyes for too long, not knowing if he would be lost in some other’s life, some other’s time.

His Ichigo would pull him from his visions when he was strong enough to command his shared body, the demon restless but obedient within him. Toshiro now lived for those brief moments, when he was nothing more than his Toshiro and the other nothing more than his Ichigo.

Until the greensight would claim him and blue eyes would burn away warm amber.

Still… two thousand years was longer than he could have hoped with his love, the black magic freezing his body out of time. Toshiro had aged, still small but difficult to mistake for a child. It would have been odd, children of the forest usually do not age, but it happened eventually to all greenseers. The flow of time they accessed in their visions aged them. Toshiro had slowed the process considerably, not seeking the past nor future, not seeking any visions at all. He wanted, _needed,_ to be present for his Ichigo when the other surfaced from the demon’s hold. 

He also had a pressing need to be aware of the actions of the Night King, to be the guiding star the creature so desperately required within his madness. 

He had been trapped within the greensight when the children of the forest came for his love. 

The Night King fled their sanctuary, a vast cavern below an ancient and massive weirwood tree, it’s roots covering the sloping walls. He knew it was him they were after, Toshiro far too precious as the last of the greenseers to be in danger of anything other than crossfire. Toshiro wanted to follow him, _saw_ the events unfold but, locked in his body, he could do nothing, only witness as his love was driven out, as - when at a great enough distance from their home - he called upon spikes of ice and personally killed his pursuers, raised their corpses, and directed them to _march._

He awoke weeks later, Yukio and Leaf, both untouched by time since that first night so, so long ago, at his side, watching over him. “How could you?” he rasped, his voice rough with disuse after such a long time under the greensight.

“We voted against this action,” Yukio said, his green eyes filled with regret. “We tried to convince them the Night King was only a threat if provoked, that he would not turn against us unless we acted first. They have become arrogant, and the Night King disturbs them greatly… I would be lying if I said that I was comfortable with his existence myself but I have never forgotten my place, the great debt we owe you both, nor the brutality of his powers. They do not understand the way we do, never witnessed his magic themselves, content to reap the rewards without facing the harsh reality of the darkness that brought them about.”

“So what is this?” Toshiro questioned, “Why did you come if you do not agree?”

It was Leaf that answered, “We came for you, the Three-Eyed Raven. The Night King’s army of the dead marched past us, so he must understand our intentions to keep you safe. We will guard over your body when the greensight takes your mind in his stead. Also, we have no wish to return and soon… Most likely there will be no home to return to.”

Teal eyes observed them both carefully, “And do you agree with that?”

“Our opinion of the morality of such a thing is meaningless,” Yukio stated after a moment’s silence, “we can do nothing. We understand, that is enough.”

Toshiro wondered if it was… If understanding why death marched on the living was enough to allow the whole world to perish…

* * *

_You were always confused on your way, no wonder you couldn’t come back home._

_You still scream…_

_Hoping for somebody to find you…_

_But it would reach nobody._

* * *

**_War of the Five Kings_ **

It had taken the discovery that dragonglass could shatter the Night King’s control over the dead as well as a warrior, a hero from the East, Azor Ahai, to push his love back into the Lands of Always Winter. They constructed a wall, so tall it touched the clouds, so vast it extended from one sea to the other, swearing to never allow the dead to march south again.

And then they forgot.

Humans' lives were so painfully short and their memories only as long as their written word was trusted to contain the truth. They all became myth, as forgotten as his precious sea dragons, whispered about, with an air of mystery to children, but not believed. 

Toshiro may as well have been a myth with how little he resurfaced from the greensight. Yukio and Leaf were always there to greet him but every time he could only feel a sad longing for warm amber eyes. His love had remained in the Lands of Always Winter in self isolation and deep seated self loathing. His Ichigo still fought the demon within him, but now that battle was fought alone, his Toshiro unable to be by his side. 

Toshiro’s crows followed him, the only comfort he could offer. He knew that the other understood the gesture. Toshiro understood that it wasn’t enough.

The day his Ichigo lost the battle was the day the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros fell into civil war.

The death of the Hand of the King, a rather simple act of treason, led to the death of the King himself and five Kings rose up to claim the vacant throne. Such utter stupidity, such a meaningless struggle as the Night King rebuilt his army from the wildlings north of the wall. 

The wall…

Like such a construction could actually contain the true wrath of such a demon.

Toshiro had aged, considerably, all traces of the youth afforded to him by his heritage burned away by the flow of time the greensight forced upon his body. Yukio and Leaf remained the same and Toshiro was glad they had each other at the end of the world.

Perhaps though… 

Perhaps the world needn’t end… 

Toshiro had been unwilling to act before, had not _been able_ to act against his Ichigo. But his love’s soul was so crushed now beneath the demon… 

He could not allow him to continue to suffer. 

It was this, more than any desire to save the living, this wish to free his love, that had him grasp ahold of the greensight, _direct_ it, and connect with a young human, awakening within him the potential to fly just as treason had claimed his ability to walk. 

* * *

_You were waiting in loneliness, hugging both of your knees._

_“I know, I’m all alone…”_

_You always wandered on your own…_

_Now, you couldn’t scream anymore._

_All you could do was walk through the darkness…_

_“This is my way to survive, always all alone.”_

_I won’t let you say such things anymore._

* * *

**_The Great War_ **

He _knew._ The Night King _knew_ now of his actions against him, of his training of his successor, of his ensuring that the humans knew of his precious few weaknesses. He was coming for him now. Yukio and Leaf refused to leave him, reminding him of their vow. Eight thousand years they had held it, they would not abandon it now. 

His successor, Bran, escaped with his friends and fled south, though the cost of their escape had been great. Toshiro knew he would make it, had _seen_ him received and reunited with his surviving siblings in the God’s Wood. 

He had also _seen_ the return of dragons. Not of the sea but of the air and he smiled at their majesty, even as one was brought low and turned to become the mount of the Night King, a far easier means of removing the wall between his army of the dead and the living he sought to exterminate.

Yukio and Leaf could not last for long against the flood of wights that overtook the home that used to be his and his Ichigo’s. Toshiro did them the service of watching them breathe their last breaths with his own eyes before he intentionally allowed the greensight to take him, losing himself within his own past, within the embrace of his Ichigo and those warm amber eyes he loved so much…

…Until the vision faded, his light finally consumed by the night… 

* * *

_Anytime anybody couldn’t come back home…_

_They’d try to scream…_

_And hope somebody’d find them…_

_But it’d reach nobody._

_We were all waiting alone while hugging both our knees…_

_We always wandered on our way…_

_Above waves, waves with no path for us to follow, this boat just keeps sailing forward…_

_…And keeps on floating._

_This is our way to survive._

_Now, the two of us…_

_...have nowhere to go._

* * *

**_Postlude_ **

Valarian steel. The dagger was Valarian steel. It shattered the black magic within him, the Night King screaming his rage and denial and _death_ as he was forcefully extinguished from his mind. And for a few moments, his mind was his own again.

Tears gathered in amber eyes as he remembered his Toshiro. _Toshiro._ Aged and frail but still _his_ and that demon… How could he possibly allow his own hand to end the life of his love?

He supposed… The same way Toshiro had…

He understood the decision, knew he had been beyond all redemption.

And he smiled.

Because as much as he knew it must have pained him, his love had _freed_ him.

His body, existing far beyond the limits of any mortal man, broke apart as the magic that had sustained him was shattered.

And still he smiled.

Because the sky was dark.

Clear.

Night.

And he could see his star… 

* * *

_I’ll always be by your side, even when you can't hold back your tears and start to cry..._

_...I’ll be a faint ray in the darkness._

_Because I am yours…_

_...Only yours..._

_…Your Polaris…_

**Author's Note:**

> Italic credits:  
> 'Fire and Ice' by Robert Frost  
> 'Polaris' by Aimer
> 
> This was a challenge fic in response to the song 'Polaris' by Aimer. This was also an attempt at a canon-compliant crossover to A Song of Ice and Fire using Ichigo as the Night King and Toshiro as the Three-Eyed Crow/Raven, focusing on their relationship throughout time. Please leave a review to tell me how I did!
> 
> If you are interested in the server that creates these challenges, you can find it using this link: https://discord.gg/5Xb5ewg
> 
> Also, if you are an IchiHitsu fan like me, make sure you check out the lovely work of Elvi and Hekwos to whom this fic is gifted to!
> 
> Thank you all that read and a special thank you to all that review, you have no idea how motivating you are!
> 
> Love, Nova.


End file.
